Diana Krall's fans seem
pretty evenly split into two camps. The first group is comprised of those
who blandish her with adulation, fawning on every quirky syllable that flows
from her sweetest of Canadian lips. Then there are those who dig the music,
but also think she's as much a product of slick corporate marketing as she
is a genuinely talented chanteuse. I fall somewhere in the middle. I find
her talent and appeal undeniable, but I'd be a little more comfortable
frothing over her if her CD packages and promo materials looked less like
Vanity Fair photo shoots than portrayals of a serious artist plying her
craft. But then, she's (reasonably) young, beautiful, and the clock may be
ticking on her fifteen minutes, so what the hey, if you've got it, might as
well flaunt it, right?

Her latest effort, The
Girl In The Other Room, follows closely on the heels of her marriage to
Elvis Costello, and his influence on her seems to be pretty profound. This
disc is quite a departure from Krall's recent foray into lushly orchestrated
standards, and represents a return to the style of her more intimate and
less heavily produced first couple of albums. It also represents her first
offering of original material, with about half the songs co-written with
husband Costello. So while it may satisfy the hounds who have been
relentlessly barking for her to abandon The Look Of Love-era primping
and posturing, it may also give them cause to worry that the corrupting
influence of Mr. Costello will sully what jazz credentials DK has left.

Not to worry, troops,
because The Girl In The Other Room is not only Diana Krall's most
idealistic and adventurous album to date, it may be–dare I say it?—her best
(!) and jazziest (!) record yet. I know, I know, the lovers of DK from her
All For You period have all dropped what they were doing and begun to
gather firewood and a big stake—"We have found a witch, may we burn
him!"—but just put away the matches, pull up a chair, pop in this disc, and
give it a good listen.

Actually, it might take
several good listens before you start to hear the genius. Opening the
accompanying booklet should serve to soothe the frazzled nerve endings of
many fans. Gone are the silly, glassy-eyed, absurdly posed photo spreads of
the recent albums, and in their place are—lyrics, of all things! So whether
it's a result of the savage relentlessness and insistence of her true fans
or the Bohemian influence of Elvis, she's gone for a welcome change of
image. As the listening progresses, you'll see that the change is not only
in her appearance—there's been a more than subtle shift in every aspect of
her artistic presentation, and it's very much for the better.

Upon first listen (and, I'll
admit, for the first few listens) this music sounded pretty foreign to me.
Gone were the toe-tapping, spirited numbers like "Errand Girl For Rhythm"
and "Frim Fram Sauce" and sultry, smoky numbers like "Peel Me A Grape."
About the closest to jazz standards are the opening tune, Mose Allison's
"Stop This World" and the relatively obscure "I'm Pulling Through." Even the
cover tunes are drawn from more pop-influenced sources (Tom Wait's
"Temptation, " Joni Mitchell's "Black Crow," Chris Smither's "Love Me Like A
Man"), but they still contain the necessary jazz sensibilities to make them
viable vehicles for DK's smoky-sweet delivery. Try to imagine a world in
which jazz artists never thought of taking pop tunes and making them their
own! That would eliminate about half the recorded jazz canon of the last
seventy or so years.

The originals are a pretty
even mix of ballads and blues, and although they're not at all what we've
become so used to from Diana Krall, they're sung with confidence and
conviction. Actually, because so much of this music is new and not just
another rehashing of tired old standards, it demands your attention and
draws you intimately into the performances. You begin to notice more of the
details—exactly how incredibly exquisite and soulful DK's playing has
become, for example—along with a few warts (my wife invariably points out
her occasional syllabic inconsistencies). Everything here has a refreshing
rawness, but because most of the accompanying players are Krall veterans,
there's a certain comforting familiarity as well. And despite the pared-down
arrangements and new lyric territory, the one constant is that this is
indeed jazz, and often, about as good as it gets.

The sound quality from
Universal's hybrid SACD is exemplary in both hi-res stereo and multi-channel
mixes. The five-channel mix places you in more of a stage perspective, with
some of the instruments coming from slightly behind and to the sides, but
nothing about the mix made me at all squeamish, and I found that I actually
preferred it to the stereo mix. If I had a quibble with the multi-channel
mix, it would be that Krall’s voice is not prominent enough in the center
channel. This may only be a personal problem, though—I recently rearranged
my listening/home theater room into a more near-field configuration, and
with the acquisition of dedicated theater seating, the listening position
(and sweet spot) is just a tad off-center. It’s nothing that can't be
corrected by leaning a bit to the left in my seat, which snaps everything
into focus, but over a prolonged period, just about snaps my neck as well!
Other discs that have a more prominent center-channel mix alleviate this,
and I'm discovering an ever- increasing preference for multi-channel SACDs.

I've listened to The Girl
In The Other Room so many times in recent weeks that the obligatory "Oh
my God, not this again," rolled-eyeball look from the wife has become second
nature, but I never fail to come away from the experience without new
insight and appreciation for the songs. While this music took some time to
warm up to, its playing time now passes all too quickly. Very well worth any
effort that might be required to get into it. Tom
Gibbs